Holding his gaze, Madeline drew in a shaky breath, her eyes clouded as she waited for him to continue.
“Although I fought the realisation that there might be decent people among the ton,” Derek admitted, ashamed to have been so short-sighted, “I could not deny that we were becoming friends. At first, I tried to explain his kindness with the fact that I had just been made a baron and naturally one member of the ton might help another. However, over time, I realised that I could not deceive myself. Tristan is a decent man, an honourable man, and he deserves every happiness he has. However, I continued to think him an anomaly…until I met his sister and her husband as well as close friends of theirs.” Derek sighed, remembering the internal battle that had waged within him not too long ago. A battle that he had not quite won, yet, for hatred that had been nurtured for a long time did not die easily. He would have to continue to fight it, to see the world for what it truly was, and then one day he might succeed and come out the victor. “The most recent evidence was your friend and her husband. I admit I expected him to look down at me, to judge me as someone unworthy of his presence, and I waited for his disregard to prove that I was right.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just like my friend, they are decent people, kind and caring, able to see past someone’s station in life and judge them for who they are alone.”
Drawing in a trembling breath, Madeline swallowed, her gaze holding his as her mouth opened…then closed. Hesitation rested in her beautiful eyes as well as a fear to be judged. Again, she drew in a breath, this one deep and powerful as though she were gathering all her strength to ask what weighed heavily on her soul. “Do you…see me like that?” Her voice was all but a whisper. “I’m not like Elsbeth, I know that. I’m not kind and caring. I don’t love children. I don’t always find the right words. I don’t find my way to those around me easily.” She swallowed, embarrassment clouding her eyes. “I know I seem to, but it’s a lie. I rarely share anything…profound of myself with others, and I know that I’m not one to be taken into another’s confidence.” She shrugged, her gaze directed inward, analysing the life she had lived. “I suppose they can tell that I’m not being forthright.” Then her gaze shifted to his once more. “I am like those people you despise. I only ever thought of myself, of what I wanted. I never looked any further.” Hanging her head, she stepped back, slowly pulling her hands free from his hold.
Derek could feel her retreat. After all this time, she finally admitted to herself how she saw her life and the decisions she had made. If he let her, she would sink into this abyss of shame and regret that had opened before her and never return.
But he could not.
For she could not be more mistaken.
“I was wrong,” Derek began, his hands holding hers tightly, not allowing her to slip away, “to see the world in only black and white.” Stepping closer, he caught her gaze, the hint of a frown drawing down her brows. “As are you.”
Her frown deepened, confusion resting in her green depths.
“You see others as good and yourself as bad,” he said in simple words, feeling the need to make her understand without doubt and uncertainty. “I jumped to conclusions before. I was wrong to do so, and I believe that you did the same.”
Shaking her head, she stared at him. “But I…I’m not like you. I don’t care about others the way you do. I don’t sacrifice my own life to help them. I don’t?”
“Do you think I do so simply out of the goodness of my heart?” Snorting, Derek shook his head. “No, I do so for very selfish reasons, let me tell you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her gaze wide as she searched his eyes, her own curious.
“You love your family, do you not?” he asked, and when she nodded continued. “As do I. We are the same in that regard. Hell, most people are the same in that regard. We all have someone we love. Someone we would move the world for. Someone who means more to us than life itself.”
Madeline nodded; however, the look in her eyes remained doubtful. “But still the fact remains that I’ve never done as you do every day. I’ve never sacrificed?”
“Because you’ve never been asked to,” Derek interrupted, his hands tightening on hers as he held her gaze. “Your life is privileged in many ways, but maybe there is one in which mine can be considered superior as it allowed me to realise the value of life, my own as well as that of others. Your family never needed you to sacrifice anything to survive, but if they had, I’m certain you would have done everything in your power to protect them, to see them safe.”
At his words, her eyes widened, and the touch of a smile came to her lips, distant and faint, merely a ray of hope. “How could you know that?”
“Because no one is truly selfless,” Derek explained, remembering how he had learnt that the proud idea of duty meant nothing if it was not tied closely to an emotional motivation. The war had taught him that those who fought in service of their families had shown a determination in battle unrivalled even by the highest-ranking officer, someone who had chosen to fight for family name and reputation alone. Ideals as cold and dead as any he could think of. What warmed a man’s heart and gave his limbs the strength to keep moving was the love of his family.
“What I do,” Derek continued, a soft smile on his face as he saw the hungry look in her eyes at the small wisdom he shared with her, “I do because my family’s pain is also mine, and in the end, I’m merely protecting myself. I cannot bear to see them suffer, and so I do what I can to not experience that.” He shrugged. “The idea of selfless deeds is so heroic and pure that many do not realise that at their core stands nothing else but self-preservation. A mother who saves her child and gives her own life does so because the alternative would be worse. It seems selfless, but it is not, for in her heart she knows that losing her child would be more painful than giving up her own life.”
“I’ve never felt like that,” his wife whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. Only this time, they shone with a sense of peace as though his revelations helped her understand that she was not at fault. “I’ve never felt such powerful emotions.”
“You never had any opportunity to,” Derek reminded her, his hands still wrapped around hers, her skin now warm against his. “Maybe in this regard, I’m the one with the privileged upbringing.”
A shy smile came to her lips. “Maybe you’re right, and yet, I do not know how this helps me. It does not change that I do not know how to live this life.”
“You can learn,” Derek whispered, hope growing in his heart. “Despite all your complaints,” he said with a good-natured chuckle, “I believe that you want to, or am I wrong?”
Madeline shook her head. “I think I do,” she whispered, a touch of surprise in her voice. “I never thought that this was what I wanted, but now…” She shrugged, confusion still resting in her eyes. “I have no idea how to go about it. How can I even attempt to…find my place here? Today, when your tenants saw me, I know exactly what they thought.” Bitterness rested in her tone. “And I cannot even fault them for it.”
“No one has a say about how they grow up,” Derek counselled. “The life we live shapes us. No one can deny that. Just as your life shaped you, their lives shaped them. They, too, jumped to conclusions. They believe they know exactly who you are…as I once did.” Leaning forward, he looked deep into her eyes. “But I was wrong, and they are too. Now, it is up to you to make them change their minds, to make them see that they, too, were wrong.”
Swallowing, she held his gaze. “Do you truly believe that?”